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Overview
Emmy is never sure where she stands with Jude, and can't believe that such a confident, charismatic guy might actually be interested in her. Getting to know Jude helps Emmy realize it's worth it to put your true self out there for real love.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781459412088 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Lorimer Children & Teens |
| Publication date: | 08/01/2020 |
| Series: | Lorimer Real Love |
| Pages: | 176 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.20(w) x 7.40(h) x 0.39(d) |
| Lexile: | HL570L (what's this?) |
| Age Range: | 9 - 10 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Love is love
By Mette Bach
James Lorimer & Company Ltd
Copyright © 2017 Mette BachAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4594-1232-3
CHAPTER 1
Someone Like You
It was 4:24 in the morning. Emmy sat down in a stairwell just off Osborne. There was some cardboard there, left by someone else. Ty seemed happy enough with that. Emmy felt the relief in her feet first, the warmth that gathered there after a whole night of walking. Ty put his arm around her, pulled her in close, and kissed the back of her head. It was a dream, this night. Being here with Ty.
Ty Biggs was not someone Emmy would normally talk to. She wouldn't even dream of hanging out with him. But now here she was — his maybe-girlfriend. Ty didn't commit. Everyone knew that. But did he kiss the back of every girl's head?
She looked out at the street. Winnipeg's Osborne Village looked different at this hour. The streetlights looked like squished together moons held up on podiums.
Emmy's stomach rumbled and she hoped Ty hadn't heard it. But he must have, because he reached into his backpack and pulled out a half-eaten hoagie from earlier that night. In the bright lights of the 7-Eleven, Emmy had opted for just an apple. Big mistake. She knew it would never last her through the night, but she couldn't eat in front of Ty. There was no way she could force anything down. Even sitting on the stairs, ravenous and cold, she almost said no to his offer. But he peeled back the plastic wrap and took a big bite, then passed it to her. The smell of ham and yellow mustard was too much to resist. She took a small bite and chewed slowly.
"So what now?" she asked when the sandwich was done.
He shrugged. "Not sure. You sleepy?"
"Me? No. Not after all that coffee we drank."
"That stuff doesn't affect me."
"That's cool." Emmy held on to Ty's arm as he reached around her. She patted his forearm like they were an old married couple. Was that cool? She tried to pretend that she had done this sort of thing before.
She reached into her purse and took out her notebook, handling it gently, like a precious jewel. It was the first time she considered opening it for anyone and she had gone over the scene so many times. In her fantasy, she was always at the swingset in the park. Ty was pushing her gently back and forth as he asked to see it.
"Sometimes I write poems," Emmy said now, the book in her hand. She had dog-eared the page she wanted to show Ty, the lines she felt best revealed her. "Would you like me to read you one?" Ty looked puzzled. "Maybe after. Er, later."
He took her face in his hands and cupped it between his palms. Emmy felt like a chipmunk with his hands enfolding the roundness of her rosy cheeks.
Ty kissed her. Then he unzipped his baggy jeans and offered himself. He didn't have to say a word. She knew what he wanted. As she bent over, she thought about the elite group she was joining. All the girls who had blown Ty had moved up several rungs on the school social ladder.
Emmy hoped it was safe, that he wouldn't give her HPV like in those awful pamphlets at the school nurse's office. But what was the worst that could happen? Would a visit to the doctor be any more shameful than showing her face at school week after week with no stories to tell, no one talking about her? Emmy had nothing worth noting about her except for her dead dad, last year's fashion, and her muffin top. And no one cared about any of that stuff.
Ty leaned back and guided her face downward. She opened her mouth and did what she figured she was supposed to do. Was he into it? She couldn't tell. She wanted him to be. She wanted some hint that she was doing it right. She wanted to hear moaning, but he didn't make a sound. Even a thumbs up would have been better than the torment of his silence.
Emmy's neck was sore when Ty pushed her away. He took over himself, his eyes focused on the wall behind her. Finally, there was a quiet grunt followed quickly by the zip of his jeans.
He didn't ask to hear a poem. Emmy watched the darkness fade. She listened to the first sounds of the morning. She heard the cars of people going to work, living their sad little lives. Emmy didn't think she would feel so empty after such a big deal. All she could think about was the list of girls she knew had been with Ty. Sure, they'd become more popular. But she realized for the first time, and a little too late, they were all thinner than Emmy. They were all prettier than she was.
Ty's arms were around her. But all she could think about was how she'd tell her friends. Or would they somehow just magically know? Could you tell from looking when a girl had crossed that line?
At 6:17 in the morning, Emmy's phone buzzed. It was so loud it woke Ty before Emmy could find it in the depths of her big pleather purse. It was her mom. Emmy could tell she was frantic, even via text.
"Where the hell are you?"
Emmy was tempted to ignore it. Why should she answer? It was always the same thing anyway. Everything she did was wrong, so why even bother to try explaining?
The phone rang.
"Who is it?" Ty stretched and scratched his chest.
There was no way Emmy was going to talk to her mom with Ty right there, so she turned the phone to silent. Instead of answering, she texted back.
"Slept at Tiana's last night. Heading to school now. Sorry."
Instantly, a reply appeared.
"We need to talk. Tonight. Be there."
Her mom was quick on the draw, she'd give her that much.
Emmy put her phone in her bag. She managed to doze for half an hour in Ty's arms. Then he woke her up and told her he needed to go home and change before school. She was tempted to do the same, but she knew if she went home she'd crawl into bed and her mom would add skipping school to the list of wrongs. Instead, she went alone to Stella's Café for an order of toast and jam.
At school, Emmy told her closest girlfriends, Michelle and Tiana, about her night. They looked at her like she was totally clueless.
"Ty Biggs is a disgusting pervert," Michelle said. "You should not be spending time with him. He fingered Rochelle right in Math class."
"Yeah, Emmy," Tiana agreed. "He's not quality."
"That thing with Rochelle was just a rumour," Emmy insisted. Somehow she'd convinced herself they'd be impressed. How could she have gotten it so wrong? Now all she wanted was a shower and a chance to start the day over.
"Why would Rochelle say it happened if it didn't?" Michelle asked. "I mean, girls don't make stuff like that up. Ty would. But Rochelle wouldn't."
Emmy didn't want to listen. Rochelle looked like a model and never talked to any of them.
"Yeah, Emmy," Tiana said again. "You can do better than Ty Biggs."
Easy for them to say, thought Emmy. Up to now, Emmy claimed to be holding out for someone special. Maybe Ty was an idiot, but he was willing to put his arms around her. For now, that was something.
CHAPTER 2The Realness
After school, Emmy scurried home. She turned the key in the front door, opening it as quietly as she could. She tiptoed through the front hall to the sharp left that led to her room. She hoped no one was home.
"You worried your mom sick, you know," said a low and serious voice.
It was Ron. He was always up in her business.
"We worked everything out via text," Emmy said.
"Get your act together, missy, or your mom's going to lose it. Time to start being nicer to her."
Nicer to her? What the hell did Ron know? Emmy had spent years being more than nice to her mom. After Emmy's dad died, she practically stepped into his shoes. She stayed up late with her mother, letting her cry out her sorrows at the kitchen table. Ron knew nothing about that. He had swooped in just under a year ago and already they were all shacked up together. They played at being a perfect blended family with Ron's super annoying son, Brendan.
"We're talking later," she shot back. Why was Ron home all the time? Emmy closed her bedroom door firmly behind her.
There was no talk at dinner. Mom was on her tablet. Ron complained about Trudeau. Brendan did what he did best: nothing. When the time came for the dreaded talk with her mother, Emmy was back in her room. She was trying to tune out the smells and sounds seeping in from Brendan's room, a fourteen-year-old playing some kind of hard-core hip hop. The walls in Ron's old house were pretty thin.
The door opened a crack at first. Then it was pushed an arm's length.
"What are you doing?" Her mom stuck her head in.
Emmy shrugged. Waiting for this very moment. Duh.
"I know you weren't at Tiana's last night," her mom said. "Emmy, I know you spent the night with Ty. That's not the kind of life I want for you."
"You don't know anything about it."
"I went to school with Ty's mom's sister. They're a bunch of thugs, the whole family. I can tell you he's never going to love you or treat you well. He's using you."
"And your choices are so much better?" Emmy looked around. "Living in this weird man's house where nobody talks to each other?"
"Emmy, I work hard, okay? I'm tired at the end of the day. I've got a boss breathing down my neck and messaging me at all hours. I've got clients who expect an instant response. I can't just ignore them."
"But you can ignore me."
"You're blaming me for your bad behaviour? I'm at the end of my rope here, Emmy."
"If you work so hard, why do we have to live here?"
"We can't afford to live on our own. You remember how hard it was after your dad died. We were living on credit cards. Ron might not be your kind of guy and I know he's nothing like your dad. But he's got a steady job, he doesn't get drunk very often, and he's opened his home to us."
"Do you listen to yourself? You sound like a whore."
Her mom's hand came sweeping across Emmy's right cheek. Emmy kept on. "It's true. You can't make it on your own and that's why we're here. You don't love him. You have sex with him and he pays the bills."
"You don't know anything about love," her mom said angrily. "Especially if you think letting Ty Biggs paw at you makes him your boyfriend."
Emmy's eyes rolled backwards.
Her mother sighed and shook her head. "I could ground you, but you'll just sneak out. I could call Ty's family, but I don't want to talk to them. I really don't know what to do with you anymore."
"Maybe I should just leave," Emmy said huffily.
Her mom looked at her as if it was the first time. "Maybe you should," she said mildly.
That was not what Emmy was expecting to hear.
Emmy tore into a frenzy, grabbing her backpack and throwing the top layer of her laundry hamper into it. She couldn't squeeze the hodgepodge of colours, all knotted together, into the bag fast enough.
"Stop being dramatic," her mom said. "You're not going anywhere tonight."
Emmy wanted to slam the door, but her mom was still in her room. No one respected her space, her privacy. She needed to cry. She knew she would any second now. But there was no way the tears were going to flow in front of her mom. The one good thing that had come out of three years of hell was that she could hold back her tears.
"Get out!" Emmy yelled. "Leave me alone!"
* * *
In the morning, Emmy's mom was in the kitchen. She was running a latte through a pod. In Ron's house you didn't go to Starbucks. Starbucks came to you via Costco. The last of the steaming water spitted and sprayed into the mug.
Without making eye contact with Emmy, she said, "I spoke to your aunt Linda last night. You know you have a standing invite to stay with them in Vancouver."
"Since when? Why doesn't anyone tell me anything anymore?"
"Because you're hard to talk to."
"What about Paige?" She bet her mother didn't think Paige, Emmy's perfect cousin, was hard to talk to.
"Paige is still there. But Linda says they can make room for you."
"Well, what about school?" Emmy asked.
Shouldn't her mom be the one asking practical questions like that?
"Distance ed."
"You really want to get rid of me, don't you?"
"Just laying some options on the table. Come on, Emmy. Help me out here."
"I haven't been to Vancouver since Dad died."
"I know. Maybe your dad is what all this is really about."
"Ugh, I'm so sick of being analyzed. Not everything is about that."
But Emmy wondered how things would be different if her dad was still around. It sucked to go down that rabbit hole of thinking. If her dad was there, they wouldn't be living with Ron. She'd have her own car, like he'd always promised her. Maybe she'd be a normal, well-adjusted teenager. Instead, here she was — a fat circus freak whose mom wanted to send her halfway across the country.
"Emmy, people are just trying to help you. Stop getting in the way of that."
"Whatever," Emmy said. Her mom was going to say and think whatever she wanted. No point trying to convince her of anything. But Vancouver? It was so far away — a different world, as far as Emmy could remember.
It was eerie how quickly her current life could vanish into thin air. Everything would disappear. Why was it so terrifying when things changed? Emmy knew that if this place was hell she should want to leave it. But now her instinct was to cling to what she knew. Michelle and Tiana weren't exactly her BFFs, but what if she had no one at all to hang out with? Wouldn't that be worse?
Emmy reached for the Lucky Charms in the cupboard. She poured some of the sugary cereal into a bowl, then drenched the fist-sized pile with milk. Brendan and Ron were in the other room. She could hear them laughing. Maybe they were laughing at her.
Emmy took a bite of the fruity, marshmallowy goodness. At least there would be cereal in Vancouver.
CHAPTER 3Never Go Home Again
At school, Emmy wanted some alone time with Ty, but he was always surrounded by his pack and she was afraid to approach a group. He looked at her and she was sure he saw her. But he didn't make any move to even say hi. She texted him at lunch, but got no reply. She messaged him after school to tell him she was moving. Then she sat in her room, watching his comments appear beneath other peoples' photos.
Emmy felt hopeless. She couldn't even get a guy like Ty Biggs by blowing him. It was clear Winnipeg had nothing to offer her. There was no point in sticking around and becoming even more tragic. A fresh start in Vancouver would do her good. It was a chance to change herself completely.
A few days later, her mom helped her haul the big suitcase out to the driveway. With a one-two-three, they lifted it into the trunk of her mom's dented Pontiac Sunfire. The weight made the car sink down an inch or two. Emmy imagined the horror of having to carry it all by herself. She'd be landing in Vancouver International Airport, not on the tarmac of some lame little airstrip. The suitcase made her feel alone in the world.
"Do you have enough money on you?" her mom asked. She opened her purse. A gust of wind covered her mom's face with hair as she rummaged for a crumpled envelope and handed it to Emmy. "Here."
"What's this?" Emmy opened it to find a bunch of twenty-dollar bills. She didn't know how many and she didn't want to count them. "No, Mom, it's okay."
"Just take it. Some's from me. Some's from Ron."
"Oh." She almost said, 'money to get rid of me.' But she stopped herself. For all the horrible things about Ron, he was generous. "Tell him thanks."
"I will," her mom said.
Emmy opened the passenger door and sat down. When she looked over, she saw a tear streak down her mom's cheek.
"I just can't believe my baby's leaving."
"Mom, I haven't been your baby in a long time."
"You'll never get too old to be my baby. This is so much harder than I thought it would be. You get to get out, like you always wanted. You get to go on this great adventure. I just can't believe how hard it is to let you go."
Emmy rolled her eyes. "This whole thing was your idea."
"Calling your aunt last week was my idea. But you've been talking about leaving for a long time now. I finally figured, better you stay with your dad's family. You'll be in a place where I know you're safe instead of off in God Knows Where with Ty or some other guy like that."
On the freeway, Emmy's mom talked about practical stuff. "Have you got your passport?"
"Yes."
"Your anti-anxiety meds?"
"Yes."
"Prescription refill slips?"
"Yes."
"Glasses?"
"Of course."
"Toothbrush?"
"Mom!"
For the first time in ages, Emmy was in the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing. When she hugged her mom goodbye, Emmy was actually relaxed. She had almost forgotten what that felt like.
* * *
Emmy lifted her suitcase from the carriage belt. Hauling that thing in her heavy coat into the Vancouver climate was making her sweat. She wiped her face before she went through the automatic glass doors. There was Paige, standing out against the crowd as usual. Her long, dark hair was in a side braid. She wore a black fedora and long, white t-shirt with a thin, gold chain dangling between her perfect breasts. Her parents stood behind her. The family was a portrait. Emmy thought about their first look at her, all pudgy and pasty. They must be dismayed at her size, her plainness, her mousy brown hair, and her pale freckled skin.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Love is love by Mette Bach. Copyright © 2017 Mette Bach. Excerpted by permission of James Lorimer & Company Ltd.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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